


Sanctuary

by iwritewhenimhappy



Series: I'll Be Good [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Child Neglect, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mates, Mental Health Issues, Mercy Killing, Pack Dynamics, Past Suicide Attempt, Past Trauma(s), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritewhenimhappy/pseuds/iwritewhenimhappy
Summary: Stiles is still getting over the loss of his father and becoming accustomed to being a werewolf's mate when a familiar face shows up in Beacon Hills, a face he thought he'd never see again.





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited. You have been warned.

_The gym teacher, Mr. Ed is on this new physical regime to get the kids into better shape. Stiles suspects it has something to do with the whole school division but he’s never questioned it. As a kid you never do, instead he sucks it up like the rest of the kids in his class and starts running. They’re supposed to run for fifteen minutes every day. At first it was impossible to run no more than a minute before he needed to slow down and take a break, but after a few weeks, than a few months, Stiles finds that he can run the whole fifteen minutes without needing stop or take a break. In fact, he really enjoys it._

_He smiles to Lydia, the most beautiful girl in the glass and she smiles back. He says to her, “Look! I’m winning.” She laughs and gives a thumbs up, saying something like, “Good job, Stiles.” Stiles feels his heart flutter in his chest and a laugh of happiness bubble up in his chest. He turns from her and keeps running, only this time now that he has her attention, he speeds up, running faster and faster, showing off to gain her favour. He can feel her eyes on him, and it’s a nerve racking and exciting feeling._

_“Hey, Stilinski, watch your feet.” Jackson calls as he runs up beside Stiles. He runs faster and faster, beating him by speed, but that’s okay, Stiles doesn’t mind, Lydia is still looking at him. He waves at her and she nods back. He goes another lap as Jackson makes two more than him in his faster speed. Before he knows it he’s right there beside him and his foot hits something solid. He goes flying and a pain unlike anything he’s ever felt radiates painfully from his foot._

_He screams in his head, not letting a sound out as he falls to the ground in a crumple. He looks up as he clutches at the limb and sees Jackson’s panicked face. Their eyes meet and then the panic is gone and Jackson’s face is as smooth as ever. Stiles stares at him in pain and confusion as everyone from the class runs towards him, surrounding him. The pain is unbearable. He swears he hurt a crack._

_“Stiles, buddy, what the hell?” Scott asks in concern as he looks down at his foot. “Are you okay?”_

_Stiles clenches his teeth and nods. “I’m good.” He says as he tries to stand, but he ends up falling slightly, Scott’s hands being the only thing keeping him up right._

_“Come on, I’ll help you to the bench.”_

_“Hey, Stilinski, walk it off.” The gym teacher says and Stiles glares._

_“Thanks.” Stiles says as Scott helps him to sit on the bench. His foot is in a whirlwind of pain and it throbs terribly but he tries to not look at his foot. He tries to not acknowledge the pain as Lydia Martin walks over with a concerned smile._

_“Hey, are you okay?” She asks with that same concern._

_“Yeah.” Stiles says with a strained smile, trying to play it off. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”_

_She nods but doesn’t leave, instead staying near and striking up a conversation with him. Scott stays faithfully beside him throughout the class but it’s Lydia who talks to him and makes his heart almost explode. She’s the one who distracts him from the pain and make it bearable. Before he knows it the class is over and Stiles has to try and stand up again. Scott is quick to wrap his arm around his shoulders and help to carry his weight back to their classroom. Luckily this is the last class of the day and he can go home right after._

_When they get to the classroom the teacher is on the phone in some deep conversation and she pays no attention to him or the other students as the bell rings, dismissing them. Scott comes over and sees if he needs help getting home, but Stiles is quick to shake his head because Lydia is there, watching, and he is fine. It’s nothing really. He’s fine. Scott nods and leaves, and Stiles does his best to get to the boot room without falling. Taking off his gym shoes and putting on his regular ones is agonizing and pretty soon he realizes that it’s not going to happen. His foot is swelled beyond belief and it’s hard enough to take the shoe off let alone the pain so he makes a decision to keep them on. Indoor shoes or not._

_The time he’s finally made his decision and is ready to leave almost everyone is gone already. He closes his eyes briefly before exiting the school. His house is close by and he’s made this walk to and from so many times before, it takes no time at all but now, injured it feels like forever. He walks across an empty field and there is nothing to hang onto, nothing to help him, and yet he has to continue. Each step is painful and awful but he’s almost there._

_“You okay?” Someone calls, and Stiles turns. It’s Danny from his class walking a ways away. He’s in a cast with crutches, having broken his leg a few months ago. Stiles wants to call out to him, to ask if he can use one of his crutches, in a jokingly tone of course, but then he remembers himself. Asking for help, even joking would admit defeat, it would admit weakness and he is not weak. He’s been through far worse. He can make the last few steps home._

_“No! I’m fine!” He calls back and Danny turns heading home. Stiles feels a pang of regret at his retreating form. He was the last kid around, now that he’s gone there is no one. Tears fill up in his eyes and it stings, but Stiles holds them down. He’s almost there, but the pain, and now that there’s no one here to see it, he falls. He falls to his knees and he crawls the final few steps. He crawls to his gate, opening it and locking it behind, all the while he stays on his knees._

_When he gets into the house his dad is leaving to take his mom to the hospital. When he sees the pain Stiles is in, he asks what’s wrong and Stiles can’t hold it in anymore. He bursts out into tears, and in a rare moment of lucidity his mom brings him close into a tight and loving hug. Stiles hugs back just as furiously._

_When they get to the doctor his dad convinces him to have a look at Stiles’ foot. He orders X-rays but it’s so late in the day they’re unable to get someone to stay with his mom so that Stiles’ dad can drive him into the city to get the pictures done. Stiles ends up with his foot wrapped in a tensor bandages that does hardly anything at all until the next. After the pictures are taken his foot is put into a cast and his dad calls the school._

_A few days late Jackson shows up. He claims he just came to see how Stiles was doing and that they’re friends. That Stiles is his best friend and he was concerned. Stiles, always wanting that acceptance, that love, grudgingly agrees, and he does what he’s always done. The only thing he knows to do and that is to bury it. He buries the event, the blame, and everything that happened. He tells himself over and over that it was an accident and that he tripped. He tells himself this over and over until he finally believes it; fully and completely._

_It was an accident._

><><><><

When Stiles wakes up the sun is shining brightly down on his face. He looks over, covering his face with his arm to see that he forgot to shut his curtains before he went to bed. It wasn’t entirely his fault as he didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was simply going to lay down and read for a while but he was so tired. He hasn’t been sleeping and dammit his head is killing him. The pain is immediate and awful and the bright sun is not helping.

Stiles rolls over and looks to his clock to find its red numbers blaring; 5:21AM. It’s early, not as early as yesterday when he woke up but still early. He has half a mind to roll over and go back to sleep but his head is killing him and if past experience has taught him anything it’s that he won’t be able to. Besides his stomach is roaring from not eating supper last night. He was too tired to cook anything and lately it seems more like a chore to eat than anything else.

“Ugh.” Stiles groans as he sits up, one hand on the side of his head pressing against the deep ache. He has to go to the bathroom and it’s more overwhelming than the pain. He quickly goes and then searches the medicine cabinet. He almost fist punches the air in victory as he finds the Tylenol. He dumps two extra strength into his hand and makes his way downstairs to the coffee pot next.

He dumps the coffee filter from yesterday out and goes to work making a new pot. He flips the switch and grabs a new mug from the cupboard. It’s an old one, most of the dishes being currently dirty, he hasn’t had the time or heart to wash them, and fills it with water from the tap. He swallows the pills quickly and drinks the rest of the water. His next stop is the living room but before he can get there he hears his phone blaring from upstairs. It makes him sigh in frustration at having to go back up the stairs but he does it anyway. It could be Derek.

“Hello?” He asks in the receiver.

“Stiles?” Speak of the Devil.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I was- uh, I was wondering if you’d go out for lunch with me today.”

“Well, first of all, I know why I am up at five in the morning but why are you?” Stiles asks redirecting the question as he sits on the edge of his bed.

“You haven’t been sleeping.” It’s not a question.

“So? Doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Derek doesn’t say anything but the silence speaks volumes. “This is another mate thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Derek replies sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles tells him sincerely.

“It’s fine. Lunch?”

“It’s a date.”

><><><><

“I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to have to cancel our date.” Stiles says nervously as he bounces from one foot to the other. It’s almost nine and he’s been up for what feels like hours. “I’m really tired.”

“Okay.” Derek agrees, but his voice is a little disbelieving, like he know there is more to what Stiles is saying. “I could bring over some food if you would like that, instead. I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“When’s the last time you ate an actual meal?”

Stiles wants lie or to argue but his stupid wolf hearing would let him know right away that he is giving out falsehoods. Instead he admits begrudgingly, “It’s been awhile.”

“Please, stiles, let me bring you some food. I’ll get those curly fries you love.”

Stiles can’t help but let out a tired smile at that. “You’re playing dirty.”

Derek laughs. “So is that yes?”

“Yeah. And Derek?”

“Yeah, Stiles?”

“Thanks. And thanks for caring.” Stiles says quickly before hanging up. He doesn’t give Derek time to respond, to afraid and nervous of what he would say. Besides, he’s not even sure why he said what he said. It was like an overwhelming feeling of being cared for, thought about, appreciated, and not being ignored or overlooked. No one’s ever really done that for him until he met Derek. No one’s ever really cared before, least of all someone who makes him feel like Derek makes him feel. Things he’s not sure how to put into words yet or to understand what they mean.

><><><><

“Thank you.” Stiles says with gratitude as Derek hands him the bag of food. He hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a while, and he does know how to cook it’s just hard to find the will power the energy to do so now a days.

“You’re welcome, Stiles.” Derek asks with a smile, but he doesn’t leave right away. “How are you?”

“The usual.” Is Stiles slightly guarded but truthful answer as he looks into the bag with furrowed brows. “These aren’t the burgers from the diner. The fries are but the burgers?”

Derek looks slightly embarrassed and that’s a new one for Stiles. He’s never seen him like this before, nervous and unsure. He’s always so strong and silent. A sturdy rock, but he is a person after all and he emotions, feelings like the rest of them. “I made those.”

“Get out. You know how to cook?” Stiles asks surprised a little pleased for some reason.

“Not really, but my dad did and he had a cookbook. I got it after… Well I made them from it. I hope they taste good.” Derek explains.

Stiles feels a punch to his gut, but it’s the good kind and it leaves a trail of emotions he’s not able to identify. “You should come in.”

“Stiles, you don’t-”

“Please come in.” Stiles says with a more firm voice as he gently touches Derek’s shoulder. It las less than a second but it’s long enough for Derek to agree and Stiles to feel like he has to rub his hand on his shirt.

They walk into the kitchen and Stiles pours both of them a drink of water. It’s all he’s got in the fridge. He pulls the two burgers out and hands one to Derek who shakes his head no. Stiles gives him a look as if to say, ‘really? Am I going to have to convince you? Also please take it?’ Derek agrees reluctantly and does. Stiles take his own and sits across from him, the fries placed in the middle for them to share.

“Wow. This is really good.” Stiles says surprised as he takes a bite, Derek’s pleased smile shines throughout the room. He and Derek both continue to eat but when Stiles is halfway through he pauses. “Can I ask you something?”

Derek nods his head.

“What was he like? What was your dad like?”

A sad and haunted look comes across Derek, but there’s also a little bit of joy as the memories of his father come crashing in. “He was very kind and calm. My mom was an Alpha of a large pack when he- back then. He did his best ease her burden. They were mates and he wanted lots of kids, but mom was adamant after having Cora that she was the last. He knew how to cook really well and he always tried to teach us, but Laura was useless and Cora was too young to really understand. He tried teaching me but I was too cool for cooking lessons with my father.” Derek gives a sort of bitter laugh at that, making Stiles instinctively reach out his hand to find Derek’s. He squeezes comfortingly and Derek finds the strength to continue. “He never wanted the bite. He had nothing against wolves, he just didn’t want to risk it. There’s always an off chance that something could go wrong and he- he lost his parents when he was young. He didn’t want us to go through anything similar with him. He always did say though that if it was life or death he would take it, but it was too late.”

“He sounds like a really great father.” Stiles says with sadness etched into his voice. He feels all of the raw grief and pain that Derek does and it’s overwhelming, but familiar. “He wouldn’t blame you, for any of what happened.”

Derek looks up sharply at that and then relaxes after a moment. He smiles almost sadly. “That’s what my mom told me.”

“She’s a pretty smart woman.”

“Yeah, she is.” Derek agrees with a fond smile. They continue to eat for a few more minutes before something shift in Derek and Stiles finds himself with his hands clutching the table in anticipation. “She didn’t mean what she said before, about you, at Scott’s party.”

“Yeah, she did.” Stiles disagrees with a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t take an Emissary in training to see that.”

“Stiles, she- She’s trying to rebuild her pack and I know you might not understand-”

“Hey!” Stile says in indignation. “I understand more than you think. Your mom is an Alpha with a severely decimated pack. It’s dangerous, and she’s just trying to rebuild and grow it. I understand that. She’s hoping that her kids find mates and have kids as soon as possible because the faster that happens, the faster she can- that you can be sturdy and safe. She’s looking out for her pack and I get that, I understand that, Derek, more than you think.”

Derek leans back, surprised and says, “I’m sorry. I just- She’s a good mother.”

“I know.” Stiles agrees with a nod as his hand finds his arm, touching gently. “I know she is, and I want get along with her. I really do.”

“You do?”

“Of course, she’s your mother and you’re my- my friend. My very good friend.”

Derek smiles softly. He has the urge to cover Stiles hand with his own but stiles sense that and is already pulling away. Maybe another day they’ll get there.

><><><><

“How’s Peter?” Stiles asks as he picks up the garbage of their meal and takes it to the garbage.

“He’s fine.” Is Derek’s simple answer, but when Stiles give him a look as if to say, ‘really? That’s all?’ he concedes. “He’s been having nightmares. He won’t talk about it and he won’t let anyone near him afterwards.”

Stiles’ eyebrows furrow in concern. “Maybe I should go and see him.”

“You would do that?”

“He’s my friend, Derek.”

“Stiles, what you saw, that wasn’t real.” Derek says slowly like he’s a child.

“I know what I saw wasn’t real, Derek, but what I heard? That was Peter.” Stiles says back with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Stiles…”

“Listen, Peter was speaking to me but my conscious mind manifested it into a physical form so that I could understand him. The time we spent together and talked, that was real.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you.” Derek says quickly, he’s not one hundred percent certain that he does, some questions remain unanswered but he needs to trust Stiles, so he will. “If you could talk to him, maybe it will help.”

Stiles nods. “Tomorrow? Today is kind of... I can come over tomorrow? Unless, you’re mom…”

“My mom is out all day in meetings. She won’t be there.”

“Tomorrow it is then.”

><><><><

“I don’t want you here, Theo! Just go!” Stiles yells angrily as he pushes Theo out of his doorway. “I don’t what you were expecting when you decided to come here but I want nothing to do with you.”

“Stiles, come on, we were friends. What have you got against me?” Theo asks with fake confusion, in Stiles’ opinion.

“Something isn’t right about you.” Stiles tells him honestly, his eyes unsure as he stares at Theo who holds his hands up in defense.

“I’m the same guy I’ve always been, Stiles, and I came here because- I- I need a pack.”

“What?”

“I’m a wolf, Stiles, an omega. I heard that the Hale pack was trying to regrow and that’s why I’m here, but just because of that but because you and Scott are here. We were really all good friends once.” Theo explains and it’s so sincere that Stiles wants to lay down his resistance and believe him, but he knows better, he can feel better.

“Maybe, but that was a long time ago. Now get out of here.” Stiles says a little more aggressively as he tries to slam the door shut. He’s not a wolf, he may be not completely human, but he’s not a wolf and he doesn’t have their kind of strength, not even close, so when Theo holds up his hand to stop him he does. His hand slams into the door preventing it from closing all of the way and Stiles feels a spike of fear from that one simple move.

“Stiles, I heard about your father. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t pretend like you care. Now, get OUT.” His last words is filled with far more than a simple human command and it shocks Theo. So much so that he takes a step back leaving Stiles the chance to slam the door shut and lock it. Maybe he should put down some mountain ash, but then how would Derek get in? Fuck, this is what messed up situation.

“Fine. I’ll leave! But you can’t shut me out forever!” Theo yells through the door as he backs away. Stiles can hear the creaking of the porch and then the steps as he leaves. Only when he can’t hear the footsteps anymore does Stiles sigh in some kind of relief. He’s supposed to over to the Hale’s, to see Peter, but after this? He just wants to lay down and have a twelve hour nap, but he knows that can’t. He’s going to be paranoid now that anyone- that Theo could break in. In his mind he knows that’s unlikely but in in his chest he’s uneasy.

Stiles picks up his phone and dials the number Derek left him. Peter is quick to pick up and say, “Hello?”

“Hey, Peter, it’s Stiles.” He answers with. “I don’t if you’re busy or not but maybe you could come over and we could play a game of chess?”

“What’s wrong with you, boy? You sound… Scared.”

“What? No, I’m fine.” He lies before he has a chance to think about it. Immediately he cringes as Peter no doubt heard his heart beat, even over the phone, but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ll come over, but I want dinner.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Chicken okay with you?”

“Perfect.”

><><><><

“So why did you really call me here, Stiles?” Peter asks carefully as he makes his move on the chessboard. They’re sitting at the kitchen table, each with their own respective dish of chicken, noodles, and canned veggies. Not one of Stiles’ best dishes but he hasn’t gone shopping in a while, this is the best he could scrounge up.

“Derek’s worried about you.” Stiles tells him honestly with a sigh. “And maybe I missed playing chess with you.”

“But that wasn’t real.”

“Maybe, but the game was.”

Peter looks up sharply with a smirk. “Smart boy. I can see what Derek sees in you, mate or no mate.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Stiles have says, half asks. “He’s been here a lot.”

“He’s finally gotten around the whole killing thing then?”

Stiles swallows back the sudden emotion that rises with Peter’s harsh words and replies with, “I don’t know.”

“What about you then? Have you come around to him?” Peter says glancing up as Stiles makes his move.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, he did abandon you. I would be angry if I were in your shoes, hell, I’m angry myself at him.”

“I’m not angry.” Stiles says quickly. “I’m just- I’m lost. I trusted him and it feels like… I don’t know…”

“Like he betrayed that trust somehow?”

Stiles smirks suddenly, it quickly turns into a smile and full blown laughter. Peter looks up at him with a questioning gaze. “Sorry it’s just- It’s like I’m in therapy.”

“Oh, well, please, let’s talk about something else. Did you see the game last night?”

For some reason this makes Stiles start laughing all over again.

><><><><

“Jesus, get in here.” Stiles says in concern as he pulls Derek in through the door and out of the storm. It’s raining buckets and the thunder is rumbling loudly like giants are having some kind of rock fight up above. Stiles hasn’t seen lightning yet but it’s obvious that it’s on its way. He texted Derek to tell him to forget about the date tonight due to the storm and his own problems, but he either didn’t get It or ignored it because he is. Either way he can’t help but ask, “What are you doing here?”

Derek shakes his head as Stiles locks the front door, rain goes flying everywhere and Stiles swears he smells like wet dog. It makes him almost laugh bit he stops it in time, he’s truly awful. Peter would see the humour it but not Derek, so he holds his tongue and goes to the closet to find some towels. He hands a big and small one over to Derek who has already taken off his jacket. He begins to wipe down and Stiles can’t help but stare. His shirt his wet, sticking to his chest and stomach. He’s got muscles it’s obvious and Stiles is young person after all. No one can really blame him or watching, right?

“I was worried about you.” Derek tells him making Stiles snap out of his reprieve. He looks to Derek in confusion for a second before realization dawns. Right, he asked him what he was doing here and this is his answer.

“Worried about me? Why? It’s just a storm, I’ve been through plenty.” Stiles tells him.

“I don’t mean the storm.”

“Oh, right.”

His father’s birthday. He didn’t really want to think about it at all today or even talk about it but here he is. Besides he didn’t have a lapse in thinking about it when he was watching this video online. Someone’s grandpa getting a surprise birthday party where all of his children and grandchildren came. It was beautiful but he was turning nicety five and his dad will never make it to that age. He barely got out of his fifties. It’s unfair, but more than anything Stiles only feels sadness for the fact the he won’t get to see any grandchildren, not that Stiles was planning on any but still. It’s incredibly, well sad isn’t really the right word for what he’s feeling but Derek is in front of him expectantly. He does have the time or space to ponder on it.

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” Derek says, his wet hand reaching out to his shoulder but Stiles flinches away and takes a step back.

“You can have a shower if you want, and you better stay the night. It’s getting pretty ugly out there.”

“Stiles-”

“I’m fine, Derek. You didn’t need to come.”

><><><><

Stiles digs in his closet trying to find some clothes that will fit Derek. He’s not very successful and ends up with a baggy shirt and slightly larger pair of underwear he bought the wrong size of once but didn’t have the energy to return it. Instead it sat in his closet for almost a year, until now. Now he brings it over to the bathroom Derek is showering in and leaves them at on the floor outside of the door. He goes back to his room and his freshly made tea. He’s trying to cut back on coffee and so here he is having five cups of tea a day. Great cut back.

“No pants?” Derek asks, his large frame suddenly in Stiles’ door.

Stiles gulps down the sudden fiery emotion down below at the sight of a pantless Derek in only a firm fitting pair of underwear and tight shirt. “Yes. I couldn’t find a pair that would fit you.”

Neither of them mention the fact that Stiles’ father’s clothing would have fitted Derek perfectly, instead Stiles says, “I’ll put your wet clothing in the dryer. It shouldn’t take too long.” Stiles slides past Derek and makes his way to the bathroom. He takes the clothing and heads downstairs. He shuts the laundry room door and sighs. His half hard dick is not helping the situation. He would take care of it if it wasn’t for wolf super hearing. He should have a cold shower, which will do the trick.

“I put them in. It should be about forty minutes.” Stiles tells Derek when he walks back into his room to find the wolf toweling off his hair on his bed. That sight alone should be illegal. Stiles can’t help but gulp back the sudden urge to jump him.

“Thanks. Where should I sl-” Derek doesn’t get to finish as a crack of lighting and rumbling of thunder cut through both of them. It’s the only thing that cuts through, suddenly all of the lights shut off, the alarm clock too, and in fact all power stops.

“Shit.” Stiles whispers. “Power out.”

“Do you have candles somewhere?” Derek asks as Stiles hears him get up off his bed. His eyes are still adjusting so he doesn’t see him as he walks closer, but he does feel him brush up against him. It’s like a wave of heat. His dick perks up at the contact and Stiles needs. He needs and wants, and he takes.

He grabs Derek’s arm, his hand sliding up to the side of his head. He pulls him down and finds his lips messily in the dark. Derek groans as Stiles feels that need pool deeper and more in the pit of his stomach. His dick is standing at attention and he needs friction. He needs Derek. He pulls him closer and moves against his hip. Derek groans and Stiles feels his own member thicken against him.

“Jesus you’re big.” Stiles whispers involuntarily as he pulls away from Derek’s heated lips.

Derek groans at Stiles crass words and says, “Stiles… What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you naked.” Is Stiles honest answer. “Come on Derek, I know you want this.”

“Not if you don’t want this.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Stiles asks in a hoarse whisper as his hips rub against Derek’s. His cock finding his. The small amount of friction, even though Derek is wearing boxers and Stiles is wearing jeans, it’s exhilarating. It lights a fire in them both but Derek doesn’t give in, not completely yet and Stiles needs him to.

“Come on.” Stiles whispers he finds Derek’s neck, giving him a nip as his hand rubs against Derek’s cock. “If you don’t, I can just go out and find someone better.”

Derek growls, feral and inhuman as his hands wrap around Stiles’ ass, pulling him up against him. His feet leave the floor and Derek picks him up off of the ground, carrying him to Stiles’ bed. He pushes him down and Stiles close his eyes briefly as he finds his neck, leaving marks. It’s going far too slow for him though and he whines. Derek takes the hint and goes to unbutton Stiles jeans but Stiles stops him. He takes Derek’s hands and Derek lets him, puts them on his jaw and shoulder. He brings their lips together as he himself goes to undo his jeans. He doesn’t take them off though, instead only taking his hard throbbing cock out.

Derek growls in appreciation between heated kissing as Stiles reaches in to find Derek’s own leaking member. He kisses Derek like his life depends on it and says as he pulls away, “Lube in the nightstand drawer.”

Derek nibs at his ear slightly before reaching over him and getting the bottle. He puts a generous amount on his hand as Stiles rubs his thumb along the head of Derek’s cock, keeping him excited. Derek is quick though and has lube on his cock, then on Stiles’ which makes him keen. It feels so much better to have someone else doing this. Derek’s hand is bigger than Stiles’ and easily fits around both of their members. The friction against each other is almost too much to bare as Derek leans in for his lips. Stiles can barely focus as his brain becomes pleasure and pleasure only.

“So beautiful. Perfect, mate.” Derek says and it’s mostly animalistic.

“Fuck.” Stiles whispers. He’s usually so quiet, has to be, but no one is here now. It’s just him and Derek. He can let go. His Dad is gone. “Harder, Derek. Derek!”

His words are filled with emotion and lust as Derek obliges, speeding up his hand. It doesn’t take long before Stiles body taunts than arches as the feelings build. Before he knows it he’s letting go, Derek’s lips kissing a trail up his neck, whispering in-between each one, “Come for me, Stiles. Come for me. So perfect.”

Stiles is breathless as Derek works his own cock to his orgasm. He shuts his eyes and comes and Stiles finds it both fascinating and hot. He doesn’t make any move though, he simply stays laying down in utter bewilderment at what they just did. Now that the horniness is gone, his mind is clear and the emotions he pushed away come barreling in. Derek kisses him gently and gets up. He’s back before Stiles even really realizes he’s gone. He has a wet cloth in his hand and reaches out. Stiles flinches like he’s been burned as the first touch of the cloth hits his skin. Derek frowns but Stiles nods for him to continue and he does. Every touch and wipe feels like a thousand needles are hitting him but Stiles bears it. Soon enough he’s done and Stiles can breathe again.

“Stiles-” Derek tries but Stiles has already done back up his pants, the evidence of what they did gone and tucked away. He turns around and curls into himself at the edge of the bed.

“Just go.” Stiles whispers, his voice cracking. “Please, just go Derek.”

He’s completely different from the confident incredibly sexy man he was a few moments ago and it makes Derek concerned more than anything, but also confused. “Stiles-”

“Just go!”

He should go, but he can’t. So instead he crawls onto the bed and walks Stiles against his chest, spooning him from behind. It causes Stiles to flinch but he doesn’t push him away, instead he breaks. He starts crying and he can’t stop. Derek holds him closer and it’s like Stiles is burning but the grief and pain lessen, and that’s something, isn’t it? His chest heaves and Derek hands on. The thunder and lightning, and the rain grow louder outside, drowning out Stiles sobs, drowning out everything.

Derek buries his face into the back of Stiles neck, trying to offer some comfort to his mate and Stiles tries to let him.

><><><><

In the morning they don’t talk about what happened the night before. Stiles wakes up warm and overheated. There’s an arm wrapped around his body, holding him tight and close. He manages to get out with minimal effort and when he stands back he finds the face of his mate. His eyes are closed and his chest still rises and falls but he’s wearing barely anything, only an old shirt of Stiles’ and some underwear. Right, his clothes, the storm, and the other thing that happened.

Stiles very carefully with controlled movements takes the quilt folded up at the end of his bed and wraps it around Derek. Derek doesn’t even move and Stiles sighs inwardly in relief. He walks slowly out of the room, into the hallway, and down the stairs. His first stop is the kitchen and the coffee machine. He dumps out the old filter and starts a new pot. The familiar movements and routine settle him. It grounds him into this moment and helps him to stay put. He doesn’t want to think about last night because if he does he’ll lose it, and not in a good way. When good things happen to him, when he fucks up those good things he always makes it worse.

The coffee pot starts to pour as Stiles leaves and heads to the laundry room close by. He finds the dryer turned off, it does that automatically if left alone for long enough after it’s done. He opens it and finds Derek’s clothes dry and still warm. He pulls them out and folds them neatly. He’s on the shirt when the energy shifts and he feels a pair of eyes watching him from the doorway. It makes him pause for a second before he finishes folding.

“Stiles.” Derek says.

“Morning.” Stile replies as he turns and does his best not to stare at his semi naked form. He hands Derek’s clothes in his arms and holds them out for him. Derek looks from the clothes to Stiles before taking them, but he makes no move to leave. “Did you want to change here? I thought maybe you’d want to have a shower. There’s clean towels in the bathroom cupboard.”

“Stiles…”

“No.” Stile interrupts, his eyes finding Derek’s. “No. I can’t… Just have a shower and let me get some coffee in me.”

Derek looks at him carefully before nodding and heading upstairs. Stiles sighs in relief. He can’t handle this ‘talk’ they’re going to have to have. If it was up to him they wouldn’t talk at all. In fact they would go about their lives silently. Stiles can do that easily, not just because talking has become more difficult lately for him but because he can read emotions, he can feel them and that’s all he needs, but that’s not what Derek is like. He’s a wolf and while usually that means more physical interactions that mental, Stiles knows that relationships need more. At least that’s what his therapist said, not that he really wants to listen to her, but he also doesn’t want to lose Derek. He doesn’t want to be alone and being with Derek it’s just selfish as he first thought. There’s something there that he can’t explain to anyone, let alone himself… Yet.

“Did you find the towels okay?” Stiles asks a half an hour later when Derek walks down from the stairs and into his kitchen. Stiles sits at the table with a large cup of coffee in front of him, extra sugar. He ate a banana already and took his medication before he had the coffee which isn’t a good combination but who gives a fuck right? “Do you want a cup?”

“Yeah, sure, I can get it.” Derek tells him and Stiles wants to argue but he can’t always have it his way. He knows that. He knows. Still, the hair on the back of his neck is on end as Derek walks behind him and fixes himself a cup. Stiles wants to turn around, to watch and to know but he fights that urge. He thought maybe, before this night that if he let Derek in- in whatever way he could that it would help these trust issues, but he was wrong. His therapist was right. God does he ever hate thinking that. Whatever. Trust needs to be built. He’s trying, fuck, he’s trying but he can’t shake the thought that this is a ploy. That in some way Derek will hurt him and that he’s not what he claims to be.

“Thanks for the coffee.” Derek says as he sits down with his own cup, more cream than Stiles would ever have.

“You’re welcome. Did you sleep okay?” It’s a stupid question but Stiles doesn’t really know what else to say to prolong the inevitable, and prolong he must.

“Stiles, we have to talk about this. About last night.”

Derek reaches out and it’s only barely touch but Stiles flinches away nonetheless. He hates this. He hates not being able to do the simple things. Rubbing one off with Derek? No trouble. Trying to touch his hand without feeling like a million insects are calling up his skin? Impossible. He grips the mug tighter, a green and blue one with the words, ‘happy birthday’ one side. He didn’t really notice what cup he was grabbing until now, but it’s appropriate isn’t it? It was his father’s birthday yesterday. This is the birthday mug. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says in the empty quiet between them, because what else can he say? Besides it’s true. He is sorry.

“Don’t be.” Derek says with a shake of his head. “We both let that happen, but what I really want to talk about is what happened after.”

Stiles looks up sharply, then back down again at the blackness of his own coffee. No cream, only sugar. “I was upset. You know what day it was.”

“Stiles, there’s something else going on and if you won’t talk to me about it, at least tell me that you are talking to someone.”

“Talking. Why does everyone think that talking solves everything?” Stiles looks up, his head shaking in anger and Derek is taken back. Where did this unexpected anger come from? “I hate when people say that. ‘Just talk about it.’ What do they know? What do you know?”

Derek’s eyes turn sad. “I know what it feels like to lose someone and feel responsible.”

The cuts Stiles deep within.

“I know that shutting up about it is easier, but it causes whatever pain you have inside to get bigger than it needs to.” Derek explains with a raw voice, and Stiles wants to believe him, he does, but he can’t.

“The pain that I have,” Stiles says lowly as he leans over the table, closer and closer, “You can never understand. Not entirely. I’m sorry for what you had to go through and maybe it is the same with my dad but everything else… No one understands.”

“Everything else?”

Stiles shakes his head as he leans back suddenly exhausted. “Forget it.”

“No, Stiles, if there’s something else going on… You can trust me.”

“Trust you?” Stiles says with a bitter laugh. “You left, Derek, you just left me like everyone else. How can I ever trust you after that?”

Derek doesn’t know how to tell him that despite that he can. Some things have to be shown through actions instead of words, just as some things have to be said rather than shown. It’s a slippery slope.

But isn’t it always?

><><><><

“Hello?” Stiles asks almost groggily as he picks up the phone on the fifth ring. He’s sitting up in his bed, sheets strewn around him in a messy pile, he hasn’t made his bed in a long time and the messiness always becomes even messier not that he thought that was ever possible. It’s currently about eleven in the morning he discovers as he squints his eyes to the red letters on his alarm clock, the phone pressed to his ear waiting for the voice on the other end to identify themselves and state their purpose.

“Hey, Stiles, it’s me, Derek.” Derek says, and he doesn’t need to say his name, Stiles can already recognize it at first listen.

“Hello.” Stiles says as he clears his throat and wipes the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand. He feels impossibly groggy, like he went out late last night but that didn’t happen. He tries to think why else he would feel this way but then he remembers how he had an appointment with his therapist and how draining it was. Maybe that’s why.

“How are you?”

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Um, well there’s going to be a party tonight. It’s nothing too big, just the pack.” Derek tells him and Stiles nods into the phone, listening. “Will you come?”

“What’s it for?” Stiles asks curiously as he bites back the automatic and crisp ‘no’ at the end of his tongue.

“It’s for Scott and Allison. They uh, they have something to announce.”

“Oh, so they’re getting married already, huh?” Stiles asks in surprise and some hurt as he thinks about things have ended between him and his so called friend. The last time they saw each other easily springs to mind, when they rescued Peter, and then leaving without another word. It’s all still very fresh even though it didn’t happen very long ago.

“Not sure, but that’s the general consensus.” Derek tells him with what sounds like genuine happiness for a member of his pack. “So will you come? It starts at seven. I can pick you up.”

“Derek, I don’t know if…” Stiles trails off as he thinks of the last pack gathering he went to. Alpha Hale’s disappointment and harsh tongue. Then he thinks of Scott and how he confronted him about his father and about all of the terrible things he said. He wasn’t so nice himself but still, it’s a wound he doesn’t want to touch ever and yet he knows he must, even as he hesitates to Derek about it now.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is stern and firm, disapproving. “You’re pack, and so is Scott and Allison. Do you know what that means?”

He wishes he didn’t. He wish he had some excuse to get out of this but Derek’s right. Stiles hates that he’s right. “I know what it means. I’ll be there, but I’ll take my jeep and see you there.”

Stiles hangs up before Derek can say anything else.

><><><><

Stiles doesn’t go to the party. He packs a bag, gets in his jeep, and drives away. He drives and keeps on driving. His phone starts to ring and he ignores it. It keeps ringing even after the sun has set, more so if that’s possible and he shudders. People can track other with those things, he thinks in sort of absent mind as he rolls down his window, cranking the handle and then taking the phone and throwing it out onto the road. He barely hears the crash as he keeps on driving, rolling up the window on the harsh window. They can’t find him now he thinks, and smiles, but it’s a bitter smile, a sad smile, one that says ‘I wish I didn’t have to do this.’ But he does. Scott was right, he is selfish, he is all of those awful things everyone says he is, murder and the likes. He doesn’t deserve to be happy or have his story finished with a bow wrapped around it. He just doesn’t.

He turns the dial and an old blues tune plays. He’s never been much for the genre but for right now it fits, and he lets the music fill the vehicle, lulling him into a safety, a comfort he didn’t know he was allowed to have. He doesn’t feel regret, just the painful tingling sensation of hurting others that in turns hurts him. He hopes that Derek will be okay, Peter too, but he knows that the others won’t even bat an eyelash. It hurts but only in that distant way of knowing it should and knowing it’s there but not feeling it. He’s numb. Emotionless in that hollow place that tells him he is not a person. He may be human but he is not a person. Derek deserves so much better. Hopefully now he can get it. Deaton did say that if the bond isn’t completed there is room for more, for _other_ , and Derek should have that.

Derek should be happy.

Even if Stiles never will be.

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my most controversial and disliked story I have ever written. Because of that I ended this quickly. I know that I shouldn't let it get it to me but it does. But maybe the ending is just as it should be. Maybe it all is as is should be.


End file.
